


Only Human After All

by altiae



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Because obviously he does, Connor Deserves Happiness, Could be easily construed as grooming, Depression, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Hank Anderson Deserves Happiness, Hank Anderson Swears, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, My First Fanfic, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), References to Addiction, Seduction, Slow Burn, probably is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26977627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altiae/pseuds/altiae
Summary: There are plenty of ways Hank thought he would die, but having a heart attack in the DPD bullpen after hearing his android partner wanted to go to a gay bar was not one of them.His fingers curled behind his head as his jaw dropped. “You want to go to…a gay bar?”“Yes,” Connor replied brightly. “And you said you owed me for this colossal stack of paperwork, so that’s what I would like in return,” he said confidently, slipping the top folder off the stack to the clear space in front of him and opening it. A post-it fell to the floor and Connor reached down to pick it up, giving Hank an extra moment to try to control his facial expression.Connor was just able to catch Hank snapping his mouth shut.-----After a peaceful android revolution, Hank and Connor are still partners at the DPD. Hank contends with his feelings for Connor; Connor contends with being a rather new person.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 32
Kudos: 128





	1. The Deal

After the revolution, Hank was so tired. He was so fucking tired of all the bureaucratic bullshit and people like Perkins fucking it up for everyone. He just wanted to resign and let the next generation fix all the shit his created. There were younger cops, brighter cops who could step up. He wasn’t a hopeful guy, but he was certain that at a minimum, these new recruits would be better than Hank.

But, in the end, he knew he had to stay at the DPD. Not for him, but for Connor. Fowler had made it very clear that even though androids were free, he didn’t trust a deviated android to be a cop. Which, in light of everything, was fair. But that meant that Connor would be out of a job.

And truthfully, Hank didn’t know what would happen to Connor without his work. His android partner had just deviated; there was still so much of his original programming in him. His identity may be growing, and rapidly if the number of sarcastic comments was any indication, but Hank was more than certain that Connor needed his job right now.

So, Hank made a deal with Fowler.

“Jeff, I’m not the right person for this,” Hank explained.

Jeff Fowler made no attempt to hide his exasperation. “You are the only cop here who knows anything about androids. Who else would be right for this?”  
Hank slumped into the chair facing Fowler’s desk and scrubbed his hand over his face. “I don’t know, Jeff. Anyone? I was planning on cutting out and retiring early—taking that offer from the state.”

The captain’s gaze softened a bit, “Look, I know you’re running on empty. But I need someone to do this, and honestly, you’re the only person I trust to do it well.” He paused meaningfully. “Do you really want me to put Detective Reed on it?”

Hank’s head snapped up. “You’re joking.”

Fowler gave a non-committal shrug.

“For fuck’s sake, Jeff,” he said as he jumped back up out of his seat, pacing the room.

Neither of them said anything for a few moments. Fowler knew when to stay quiet and let Hank think, and this was one of those times.

Hank stopped pacing as he got to the glass edge of the office, facing out over the bullpen. Hank’s desk was a mess, per usual. A stale box of doughnuts sat balanced on top of case files that he needed to get to sooner or later. A cup of coffee had gone cold days ago. Miscellaneous papers were haphazardly pinned to a bulletin board.

It was a stark contrast to Connor’s workspace (which is not a word Hank would use for his own desk). There was one pile of folders perfectly fanned out next to the console and absolutely nothing else. His desk chair was neatly tucked under the desk, the back parallel to the edge. It almost made Hank sad for a moment, thinking how easy it would be to erase Connor’s imprint there.

Hank sighed.

“What would happen to Connor?” he asked, leaving out the…if I left.

When Jeff didn’t answer immediately, Hank turned to him, the question still on his face.

“What happens to Connor, Jeff?” he repeated.

“Hank, you know I can’t keep him on.”

“What? He’s better than all the rest of us cops combined!” Hank’s voice rose. “You could get rid of everyone here and keep Connor and you’d STILL see our numbers go up!”

“He’s an android! We can’t trust him.”

“And you can trust Gavin?”

“Gavin’s human,” Fowler replied.

Hank scoffed, “That’s a fucking stretch.”

“What do you want me to do, then?” Jeff asked, even-keeled.

Hank leaned forward, laying his elbows on Jeff’s desk and steepling his hands in front of his mouth. “What would it take for you to keep Connor?”  
  
Jeff cocked his head thoughtfully, but didn’t respond.

“What if I stayed? Could he stay as my partner?” Hank didn’t like how desperate his voice was starting to sound, so he spitefully added, “so he had a human partner to take care of him?”

Fowler considered, sizing Hank up.

“So you’d stay, and you’d head up all android cases, as long as Connor could be your partner?”

Hank knew he could walk out of the DPD today and never look back. He’d head to Jimmy’s, get absolutely wrecked, go home, and sleep it off. The next day wouldn’t be great, but he’d probably start drinking by noon, and then he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. At least he wouldn’t have people like Fowler on his ass all the time. And he wouldn’t have cases to remind him of Cole, or Jen, or anything else he’d lost. He could just lose himself entirely.

But Connor? His life would effectively end without work to do. If that fucking coin were any indication, he would lose his mind, or whatever processes make up his mind, in a day. Maybe less. And since he was Hank’s roommate for the time being, that left him to be responsible for the kid.

Also, there was a more-than-decent chance that Connor could do some real good at the DPD. Most of the androids were still in Detroit and god knows how many crimes were committed against them every day. They needed someone on their side. And if that person were Gavin? Hank felt heat rising on the back of his neck.

That would not be good.

Hank made his decision.

“I will stay for one year and head up your android whatever division. As long as Connor keeps his job, stays my partner, and actually has a shot at being a cop.”  
Fowler narrowed his eyes. “You will stay for three years and take lead on all android cases. Connor keeps his job as your partner and I will do my best to fight for him to stay longer, if he wants to.”

“Two years,” Hank countered.

“Deal,” Fowler said, putting out his hand.

The two shook on it and Hank surprised himself by feeling a little bit of relief, even if it meant he would be stuck here for another two years. He sighed to himself; he supposed he would still be able to drink himself to death in 2040 just as well.

Hank left, letting the door swing closed behind him. Glancing back into the glass office as he walked down the stairs, he noticed a self-satisfied smile on his boss’ face. It was only then that he wondered if this deal had been Jeff’s plan from the beginning.

Despite himself, Hank smirked. Well played, Fowler.

As he walked to his desk, the clutter on his desk became, as if it were possible, more prominent. He grimaced as he picked up the box of doughnuts, the old mug, and some granola bar wrappers he had pushed into the corner. He walked to the kitchen, threw the garbage away (after he took a bite of terribly stale, but not entirely inedible, doughnut) and washed the mug. He placed it in the drying rack and walked back to his desk.

“You didn’t have to tidy up for me, Lieutenant,” Connor said.

Hank rolled his eyes, “That would be rich.”

Connor perched himself on the corner of Hank’s desk, his arms crossed against his chest. His LED spun a cool blue and his face betrayed a small smile, clear he couldn’t help finding his own joke somewhat funny.

“Would you get out of my way?” Hank asked playfully, pulling his chair out to sit down.

Connor stayed put. “A more organized desk could increase your productivity.”

“Well, you know that’s my number one goal, Con,” Hank replied. “Increased productivity,” he enunciated each consonant.

Connor’s smile grew on his face as he uncrossed his arms and laid his palms on the desk behind him. He didn’t wear the CyberLife jacket anymore, but he still clung to the pressed slacks and the button-up white shirt. No matter how many times Hank tried to tell him he didn’t need to wear a tie to work, Connor refused to wear anything else, including the neat tie clip.

The best Hank had been able to do was unearth some old ties he used to wear and give them to Connor. They were out of style, but at least they weren’t the same boring, dark pattern he used to wear, which made him look like an old-school video game G-man.

Though Hank had never met a G-man that looked much like Connor. Connor was made by design, that was undeniable. His body was slim, and not in a skinny way. He had narrow hips with beautiful sloping shoulders and a face that was as inquisitive as it was endearing. When he turned his head, a small freckle would appear from under his collar. And while his hair was almost always perfect, one curl would escape sometimes, falling in front of his face.

So, no, Hank considered. He never really looked like a G-man.

Unfortunately, what he did look like was precisely Hank’s type.

“So, what’s on the docket for today?” Connor asked as he swung himself up and walked to his desk.

Hank picked up the stack of files and dropped them with a loud thud on the newly-free space in front of him.

“Paperwork, followed by paperwork, and then we’ll finish up with some paperwork.”

Connor shook his head, “This is all so primitive. If they didn’t need hand-written copies, I could accomplish this in minutes.”

“Yeah well, we’re not all Robocop, Con.”

“What’s a Robocop?” he asked with a blank expression.

“You’re telling me you don’t know--“ Hank started. “Oh. You’re messing with me.”

Connor winked and flashed a winning smile in Hank’s direction, “I’m getting good at it, too.”

Hank hated how charming Connor was. Before deviating, Connor was good. He was smart, he was quick, and he was gorgeous. But since deviating he’d become…real. He wanted to watch movies, listen to music, go to bars; he wanted to try everything. He had been deciding what he liked, and what he didn’t, with gusto. And what’s worse, he had been picking up on Hank’s humor and using it against him, which would have been far more annoying on someone less perfect.

It also meant that they had been spending far too much time together. After the revolution, Connor had needed a place to stay, and Hank’s place was the obvious solution. Connor had walked in with nothing but the clothes on his back, including his CyberLife jacket, and become Hank’s roommate.

Hank didn’t mind, really. It was nice having someone around the house, and Sumo loved Connor. Probably more than he loved Hank, which Hank understood. They watched movies together and played games that never lasted long because Connor was so fucking smart. At night, Hank would go to bed and Connor would do, well, anything else. He would go into stasis, read, and flip through case files, either on paper or in his head.

He had started going on late-night walks, but Hank didn’t like him doing that. Things were still too tumultuous since the revolution, and while the world had always been filled with assholes, they were more emboldened than ever to fuck with any android they came across. Connor could pop out his LED in order to blend in if he wanted, but he never did.

Hank really only felt that Connor was safe when they were at the DPD together.

“Let’s do this,” Hank said as he stood up and leaned across the desk, deftly picking up the fanned out files on Connor’s desk and placing it on his own. “I’ll take the files you’ve written up and you’ll take the ones I’ve done.” He the hefted his stack of paperwork and dropped it on Connor’s desk.

He noticed the briefest look of panic on Connor’s face as he peered up from his chair, “Lieutenant, my paperwork is immaculate. Yours is,” he said as he ran his hand over the loose papers haphazardly stuffed into the file folders, “not.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re better than all us primitive types, then,” Hank said knowingly.

Connor responded with a withering look.

“Give me a break, Con. You knew you’d be doing most of it from the beginning anyway.”

Connor sighed with exasperation, another emotion that CyberLife hadn’t planned on but got in spades with Connor’s model.

“Okay, but you owe me,” the android said.

Hank raised his eyebrows as he opened the file on top of the stack. “And what would I owe you, my android friend?”

Connor furrowed his brow like he had a question. “Money?”

Hank chuckled. “That’s not really how favors work. It’s usually like, ‘you owe me a drink’ or you get them to do something they don’t normally want to do.”

“Well I don’t drink—” Connor started.

“Exactly why owing you is perfectly fine with me,” Hank interjected with a smirk, sliding his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair.

“—but I do want to go to a gay bar.”

There are plenty of ways Hank thought he would die but having a heart attack in the DPD bullpen after hearing his android partner wanted to go to a gay bar was not one of them.

His fingers curled behind his head as his jaw dropped.

“You want to go to…a gay bar?”

“Yes,” Connor replied brightly. “And you said you owed me for this colossal stack of paperwork, so that’s what I would like in return,” he said confidently, slipping the top folder off the stack to the clear space in front of him and opening it. A post-it fell to the floor and Connor reached down to pick it up, giving Hank an extra moment to try to control his facial expression.

Connor was just able to catch Hank snapping his mouth shut.

“Have you ever been to one?” Connor asked casually.

“To a gay bar?” Hank asked, still frozen.

The exasperated look returned. “Yes, Hank. Have you ever been to a gay bar?”

If knowing his android partner wanted to go to a gay bar caused Hank’s first heart attack, the second was caused by Connor asking him if he himself had ever been to one.

Hank leaned forward in his chair and coughed into his hand. He hadn’t ever really talked about his sexuality to anyone, even Jen. It wasn’t that he was particularly ashamed by it; he just didn’t want anyone knowing his business. And he would be lying if he said he trusted the jerks at the DPD to be, well, not jerks. So even though his mostly non-existent sexuality wasn’t exactly heterosexual, it wasn’t something he spent much time thinking about.

“Can we, uhh, talk about this later?” Hank asked gruffly, grabbing his mouse and waking up the monitor in front of him.

“Of course, Lieutenant. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you this during work hours.” Connor said, sitting straight up and turning his eyes to the screen. His face was entirely impassive, making Hank think that maybe he was hurt.

“Con,” he started softly, “It’s fine that you asked. Seriously, it is.” He wished he could put a hand on Connor’s shoulder or something, just to assure him he didn’t make a mistake. “I just don’t want to talk about that stuff at work. Does that make sense?”

Connor’s back stayed rigid, but Hank saw his shoulders drop a fraction of an inch. His eyes dropped from the screen in front of him and up to Hank’s face.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” he replied.

The corner of Hank’s mouth lifted as they both returned to their screens.

“You are such a weirdo,” Hank said under his breath.

“I heard that,” Connor replied nonchalantly.

“I know you did,” Hank confirmed, starting what was going to be hours of data entry.


	2. The Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But there was another feeling. A deeper, darker feeling. He was jealous. 
> 
> Connor had always felt like his. His partner, his roommate, his friend. He was happy Connor had a life. Christ, he wanted him to. But to think of other people touching him, slipping off his tie and pulling at his belt…That was a bit too much.
> 
> “That’s good to hear,” Hank lied. “How have they been?”
> 
> Connor gave a satisfied nod, like he had just confirmed a delivery. “They’ve been overall good. In some ways, I think I’m built to be a good date.”
> 
> Despite feeling a little crappy, Hank smiled, “I could see that.”  
> \----  
> Connor and Hank go home to talk about the question in the last chapter. It goes about as well as can be expected.

The moment he closed the car door, Connor turned to Hank.

“So have you been to one?” he asked.

“Jesus, Connor, it’s been one minute since we left work. Can you go easy on me?” Hank said, rolling his eyes as he turned the key in the ignition.

“You said you preferred we not talk about this in the office. We are no longer in the office,” Connor said, opening his palms shifting them from one side to the other.

Hank sighed. He simply didn’t have the energy to battle Connor right know. Though he really, really could have used a drink while talking to him about this.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He took a breath. “Okay, so what’s the question? Have I been to a gay bar?”

Connor nodded.

“Yes, I’ve been to a gay bar.”

Connor looked at Hank expectantly before moving his head slowly forward and raising his eyebrows. 

Hank gripped the steering wheel with his eyes directly in front of him on the road, but he was still able to see Connor’s face out of the corner of his eye. He set his jaw kept his eyes forward. If Connor was going to make him go through this, he was determined not to make it easy for him.

“And?” Connor asked.

“And what? Yes, I’ve been to one. Next question.”

Hank smiled when Connor rolled his eyes almost enough to make the car change lanes. 

“Why did you go?” he asked like Hank was a child.

“A few friends from college wanted to go to one and I tagged along,” Hank said with a shrug. He wasn’t entirely sure how much he wanted to share with Connor, so he was being more withholding than usual. Connor was still so new at being a person—it made Hank nervous. He had felt bad enough being a role model from Cole, his actual child. But knowing that Connor was learning so much about being human from Hank was not ideal. Hank was no role model.

“Did you want to go?”

Hank shrugged again, “I guess. Something to do.”

“Did you want to go because you’re interested in men?”

“May have been part of it,” Hank said as he shifted in his seat.

“So you went in order to find a male sexual partner?”

Hank felt the heat rise to his face as he pulled his gaze from the road. He narrowed his eyes at Connor.

“…Are you running a fucking interrogation protocol on me right now?”

Connor’s pupils went wide as his eyes searched back and forth before his hand lifted to his LED. When he spoke, his voice was small. “I’m so sorry—I think I was.”  
Hank looked back to the road.

“Hank, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even know I was doing it,” Connor said, fisting his hands in his lap as he turned to face the window. “We don’t have to talk about this anymore.”

The mood in the car was tense. Hank still wasn’t quite ready to lower his guard and Connor had shrunk into his seat, his eyes glued on the buildings passing by. Hank stole a quick glance at him and noticed the reflection of his LED in the window, a small yellow circle quickly spinning in the dark.

Hank was trying to think of something to say when Connor beat him to it.

“I hate that about myself. That I can’t tell where my programming ends and I begin.” He brought a hand to his face, rubbing his eyebrows. “I’m getting better at it, but I still slip up.”

And with that, the last of Hank’s resolve to stay angry melted away. As they turned into the driveway, he said, “It’s okay, Con, I know. Let me get a beer and we’ll talk about this, okay?”

Connor’s expression was intense, earnest. “We truly do not have to. I promise.”

Hank smiled, “I know we don’t have to. You’re curious about something and want to talk about it. If you can try to not push so hard, I can try to be less of an asshole. How’s that?”

Connor nodded and reached for the car door. “I’ll let Sumo out,” he said as he stepped out.

Hank swung his keys around his finger and into his pocket as he followed Connor to the front door, not bothering to lock the car. Things were still dangerous in Detroit, but Hank’s car was so remarkably shitty that it wouldn’t be a target for anyone.

As soon as Connor put his key in the lock, a wagging tail appeared in the window. 

“Just a second, buddy. You have to let me open the door, first.” Connor said sweetly to the door as he turned his key.

The old dog instinctively took a few steps back when Connor walked in but lunged right back at him when he was clear of the door. Hank usually didn’t let Sumo jump on people, but it made Connor so happy the first time that he ended up letting it slide. Besides, it wasn’t like he had guests very often, so Sumo had relatively few opportunities to misbehave.

Connor led Sumo outside as Hank went to the fridge to get a beer and heat up some leftover Chinese food. He stood at the microwave, staring into the back yard. Connor had loosened his tie a little and was playing with the massive Saint Bernard, whose chest was on the ground with his tail frantically moving in the air. Connor’s tie clip had come loose, and the fabric flipped over his shoulder as he sprinted to corner the dog in between the house and the fence. 

Hank’s head slowly tilted to the side as he sipped his beer. He knew why Connor’s question had bothered him so much. Of course, he knew. 

In many ways, Connor had given him a second chance. A chance to actually care about something, to work for it. Since losing Cole, Hank hadn’t felt much, if any, of that. It sounded cliché and fake, but the android had taught him how to be a better person. 

At least, a little better.

He had been better at work, which is why Fowler had wanted him to take on the android cases. He still drank himself silly, though that was harder to do with as much frequency now that he had a witness, er, roommate. And Hank still had his depressive episodes, times when even Connor couldn’t get him to go to work. But taken in total, things were better.

And Hank really, really did not want to fuck that up.

Hank nervously fidgeted with the bent bottle cap. Sex always messed everything up. Having it, not having it, it always made things difficult. 

Honestly, Hank assumed Connor would be straight. He didn’t really know why. Probably just because that’s what everyone thinks everyone else is by default. But he never seriously considered Connor could be interested in men, which brought up a lot of uncomfortable ideas for Hank that he really only thought about late at night. And were certainly, definitely, not things he wanted to think about in the light of day. Or sober.

He finished his beer and opened another right when Connor was coming in with Sumo. He quickly threw out the glass bottle before Connor could see.

“Phew,” Connor wasn’t out of breath—that wasn’t something that could happen. But Sumo sure was, and Hank thought Connor may be trying to commiserate with him.

Sumo gulped up some water before flopping on his bed in front of the couch. Connor walked into the kitchen, “Want to watch something?”

Hank grabbed his food and his beer as he considered Connor could be giving him an out right now. It could be another way of apologizing, trying to not be so demanding and pushy. But the conversation would continue eventually, and Hank was feeling a bit of a buzz from having downed the beer so fast on an empty stomach, so he was more amenable to it than he usually would have been. 

“Nah, let’s talk about that thing,” he said as he sat down.

“Really? Are you sure?” Connor asked in the way only he could—assertive, yet open.

“No, of course not, this is terrible. But we obviously need to talk about it so sit your ass down,” Hank said into his beer.

Connor sat down, primly folding his hands in his lap as he looked at the table.

Hank shoveled a few bites of food into his mouth as they sat in silence. Swallowing, he raised his eyebrows, “Well?” 

Connor studied the table before speaking, “I don’t want to interrogate you.”

Hank slumped back in his chair. “It’s fine, I’m starting the conversation now. What do you want to know? If I’m gay?”

The android’s LED flashed red for a fraction of a second before settling on yellow. 

Hank took another swig of beer. “Here’s the deal. I’m bisexual, queer, whatever people call it these days. I don’t talk about it because it’s not anyone’s business except for the people I’m fucking, and that happens to be no one.” 

“So, you are interested in both men and women,” Connor confirmed.

“Affirmative, Robocop,” Hank replied as he realized he was almost all the way through his second beer. He wondered how he could get another one without Connor telling him off.

“Is that common in the DPD?” Connor asked.

Hank rubbed the back of his neck. “I really don’t know. I guess?”

“How often do you sleep with men?”

Hank’s shoulders tensed as he downed the beer and decided he didn’t care if Connor told him off—he was getting drunk as hell tonight.

“Not often,” he said with his head in the fridge.

“How often do you sleep with women?” 

“Less often.” 

“Do you prefer men to women?”

Hank took a swig, “You’re treading on too pushy right now.”

Connor looked down again, “Okay.”

Hank pursed his lips. “Can’t you consult the internet for some of your questions?”

Connor nodded and cocked his head. His shoulders loosened a bit, like he was reminding himself to be casual. “I have tried, but,” his brow furrowed again, “the internet is a weird place.”

Hank almost choked on his beer laughing at that one. “That,” he said, still smiling, “is certainly true.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I’ve been going on some dates, and I wanted to know—”

“You what? You’ve been going on dates? When?”

Connor lifted his shoulders, “Usually late at night. Androids only need to go into stasis every few days, less so for me, so I’ve met up with some people from Jericho.”   
Hank was feeling a lot of things. Partly relief that Connor had been trying new things that had nothing to do with him. Partly concerned for his safety, as newly-deviated androids could be dangerous if too emotional. He supposed the same could be said of humans.

But there was another feeling. A deeper, darker feeling. He was jealous. 

Connor had always felt like his. He was his partner, his roommate, his friend. He was happy Connor had a life. Christ, he wanted him to. But to think of other people touching him, slipping off his tie and pulling at his belt…That was a bit too much.

“That’s good to hear,” Hank lied. “How have they been?”

Connor gave a satisfied nod like he had just confirmed a delivery. “They’ve been overall good. In some ways, I think I’m built to be a good date.”

Despite feeling a little crappy, Hank smiled, “I could see that.”

The android returned the expression, pleased. “I’ve liked the people I’ve met, but I’m having trouble understanding the difference between platonic and romantic interest.”

Hank chuckled, “You and everyone else.”

“Really?”

“Come on, Con. How many of the old movies have you made me watch with you? When Harry Met Sally? Sixteen Candles? People are terrible at knowing what they want. That’s not just an android thing.” He took another sip, realizing he was going to finish off his third soon.

Connor considered this. “But can’t you just feel it?”

“Can’t you?” Hank countered.

“For me, every moment since I deviated is a battle between what my programming wants and what I want.” Connor’s fingers interlaced in front of him, pulling his hands from side to side. “I imagine that without the programming, I would be able to know what it was that I wanted.”

Hank nodded, his brain starting to feel fuzzier than before, even though he had only had two, now three, beers. 

“I mean, we all have programming, right? We’re all brought up with shit about what we should want and being an adult is just the process of carving that away to discover what really makes you happy.”

Connor’s soft gaze rested on Hank’s eyes, which he wasn’t prepared for. He swallowed as his stomach hit the floor.

“Meaning we’re fucked from the start, so we might as well drink,” he added before finishing off the beer. He was certainly going to switch to Black Lamb after that.  
“I actually think that was very astute, Lieutenant.”

“We’re back to Lieutenant now? I thought we had settled on Hank outside of the office,” he said as he poured two fingers into a glass. He added an ice cube from the freezer.

Connor shrugged as he stood up and went to the small dresser they had gotten for him and stored at the end of the hallway. 

“When you’re particularly insightful, I switch back to lieutenant,” he called from the hallway. Hank heard a few drawers open and close.

“That’s why it’s so rare,” the android added from the bathroom. Hank could practically hear Connor laughing at his own joke. 

Hank stood with his back against the counter, feeling the whiskey warm his mouth. He rolled the liquid around, coating his tongue. Looking at the ceiling, he considered what he said, but not for long.

“How do you know what you want?” Connor said as he emerged from the hallway, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a Knights of the Black Death shirt that Hank had given him. He crossed to the sofa and hopped over the back, sitting at the far edge and facing Hank. 

That one curl had flipped forward on Connor’s forehead and rested just above his left eye. The t-shirt was so old that a few holes had worn their way below the collar. Connor’s head was resting on the heel of his hand and his eyes looked at Hank expectantly. 

Hank didn’t give a shit about what he should want. He was, however, well-aware of what he shouldn’t want. But he was old enough to know that some friendships are too valuable to fuck up with sex, and he had precious few friends left. So, while, yes, he was attracted to his gorgeous android partner, the pull to preserve the friendship, to safeguard it, was stronger. 

Hank took a sip.

At least for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic, so feedback is very welcome! I hope you enjoy it :)


	3. The Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank’s fingers twitched on the counter behind him. This wasn’t supposed to happen; Connor wasn’t supposed to want him. Connor was gorgeous and young and perfect. Hank was old and broken. 
> 
> He swallowed once before Connor got even closer. He hovered in front of Hank’s face, his eyes looking into Hank’s. 
> 
> “Do you want me?” Connor asked.
> 
> “Connor--” Hank started just before Connor kissed him.  
> \---  
> Hank and Connor go to the gay bar together. Hank meets a new friend. Connor feels something he didn't expect.

“Don’t you have android friends you can go with? Why do you want to take an old man like me, anyway?” Hank asked, flipping through his closet.

“Hank, you owe me, right? This is you owing me,” Connor replied from the bathroom. 

Hank grumbled to himself as he looked through the shirts. While a part of him was happy to be involved in Connor’s new life, there was something profoundly embarrassing about being an old man going to one of these places. Hank was certain that Connor would end up meeting some guy and wandering off. 

“What are you going to wear? Your slacks and button-down? Please, tell me you’re wearing the tie clip,” Hank said with a smile. He briefly considered telling Connor that tie clips were usual fair at gay bars, just to see if he would do it. But it was next to impossible to trick Connor, so the idea was fleeting.

“I was thinking this,” Connor said when he stepped out of the bathroom.

Hank’s throat went dry. Connor wore dark jeans, cuffed at the bottom, over dark, simple shoes. His olive shirt was long-sleeved but pushed up to his elbows. The shirt had a few buttons up at the collar, and a two were undone. The shirt was slightly tucked in at the front, showing a simple belt buckle. 

“You look good,” Hank lied. Connor looked fucking fantastic. He grimaced internally. This was going to a be a long, long night.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Connor asked gently.

“No,” Hank replied defensively. He had been, in fact, considering it.

“Can I come in?” Connor asked, walking toward Hank.

Hank nodded, mostly because he didn’t completely trust what he was going to say out loud. With Connor looking like that, and being so close to his bed, it was better to keep his mouth shut.

Connor slipped himself in between Hank and his closet, fingering through his shirts. 

“We really should get you some new clothes,” he said.

Hank swallowed, staring at the back of Connor’s neck. A few freckles dotted the skin that his crisp shirt collars covered, and a few speckled the skin under his cropped hair. He wanted to take one step forward, slide an arm around Connor’s waist, and pull him against his chest. Instead, he balled his hands into fists and pretended to take offense at Connor’s comment.

“My clothes are fine,” Hank gulped.

Connor turned to give him a pointed look, “They are exactly fine. You can look better.”

Hank made an executive decision to not occupy the same space as Connor anymore and went to the bathroom. He could clean himself up a bit, and regain a shred of control over his hands, before they left. 

“Just pick what you want me to wear, Con.” 

“Mmhm,” Connor replied, ensconced in Hank’s closet.

Once in the bathroom, Hank tried to distract himself with shaving. It was rare that he took the time to trim his beard and clean up his scruff, so today was a good a time as any. Afterward, he cleaned up the sink and looked himself back in the mirror. All the self-deprecating post-it notes he had up there had been taken down right when Connor had moved in and without a word. 

It made sense. It was nice of Connor to do. But it left an empty space where Hank had to look at himself, which was the point of the post-its in the first place. He scrubbed a hand over his face and braced his hands on the sink. 

“I’ve selected your outfit! I’ll put it right outside the door—I’m taking Sumo on a quick walk before we go.”

Hank grunted in reply, waiting for the door to close.

When he thought Connor was gone, he opened the door to pick up the clothes. They were all familiar, but certainly not things he would pick himself. He slipped on the jeans and the blue and white patterned shirt, actually one that he had forgotten he owned. Hank was many things, but diligent about laundry was not one. He tucked the shirt into his pants, then immediately untucked it. 

He felt slightly less terrible about his appearance as he did previously, which was a start. He pulled his hair back and tied it up, hopeful that it had the effect of making him look younger. He took a breath.

Hank walked out of the bathroom and slipped on some old boots right as Connor came in with Sumo. The dog ran into the room like he had never met Hank before, which was typical. He bent down to take off his collar and scruff his ears. He stood up to see Connor staring at him, spinning red, fidgeting with the leash. 

Hank stood up, “You’re red,” he said, tapping his own temple. “Do I really look that terrible?” 

“No! No, god. That’s—” Connor sputtered while he hung up the leash. His eyes softened and his LED went back to yellow.

“You look great,” he said finally.

“Okay, weirdo,” Hank said as he folded his sleeves up, tucking them in at the elbow.

“Ready?” 

“I gotta be honest, I’ll need at least one drink before we go. Do we have time before the cab gets here?” Hank was a shade sheepish with the question.

Connor’s eyelids fluttered as he checked with the cab company before he nodded, “We’re good. Go ahead.”

Hank poured a drink, forgoing the ice cube. He downed it in one swallow.

“It’s been a while for me, you know that, right?” he asked Connor.

“I know. I appreciate you joining me,” Connor said delicately.

The headlights from the cab swung across the window and into the living room. 

“Damn well better,” Hank muttered as he walked by Connor and out the front door.

The cab ride to the club was quiet. Hank almost found himself missing how the old cabs were—having a stranger in the car with you almost made it less awkward.   
“Are you going to be looking for a sexual partner tonight?”

Connor, obviously, had no understanding of what awkward was. 

“My god, Con, you have to stop saying shit like that,” Hank said before putting his face in his hands. But when he looked over at his partner, a huge smile plastered over his face, he understood.

“Ah. You’re fucking with me again.”

“Indeed, Hank.”

“You know, that is really getting old.”

“I disagree,” Connor retorted, idly cleaning his nails in the blue light of his LED.

Despite himself, Hank smiled out the window as he rolled his eyes. Connor was a person unique to himself now. Equal parts inquisitive, beautiful, and just a little petulant. It was an intoxicating blend, and Hank hated that every day he liked him a little bit more.

The cab arrived at the bar and they stepped out. 

“Okay, here are some ground rules,” Hank started. “We stick together until you find someone you want to…hang out with…or whatever. Then you tell me you want to split off, and you do that. Then I’ll get a cab home. Deal?”

Connor cocked his head. “What if you find someone?”

Hank smiled and couldn’t help himself. “Honey, looking the way you do, and dressed like that, this is pretty much a done deal for you.”

And if Conner didn’t flash him the most beautiful, confident grin back at him.

Since Connor had brought up sexuality, things had, predictably, gotten messier. Hank had felt himself start to flirt more, and even noticed that Connor had reciprocated. It was in Connor’s programming to flirt, Hank assumed. It was part of what made him so likable. Hell, he had winked at Hank before he had deviated. That shit must have been CyberLife.

Hank knew he was treading on thin ice. But it felt too good to be standing outside a gay bar with this gorgeous kid grinning at him. He felt young and stupid and just for a moment was able to forget how much shit he had been through. 

So, they went in.

The place was android-friendly, as most queer places were used to taking in other communities’ strays. It was a little crowded, but Hank was used to finding a spot at the bar. He ordered a whiskey and a seltzer with lime. Connor couldn’t drink, but he could at least look like it. 

“This is your night, kid. What do you want to do?” Hank asked.

“What do people normally do when they go to bars?”

“Well,” Hank started before taking a sip of the harsh alcohol, “usually they get drunk with their friends until they’re brave enough to talk to someone they find attractive.”

Connor nodded affirmatively, “They drink to embolden themselves.”

Hank nodded, the glass hovering against his bottom lip. “Something like that.”

“I could just go up to someone right now, right? If I wanted to?”

Hank swept his arm open, “Be my guest. Just know that if you leave me alone here for ten minutes, I will get a cab home.”

Connor scanned the room, likely knowing the identity of everyone there within a second of examining their face. For his part, Hank scanned the liquor shelves to see if there was anything else he wanted to drink. While Connor’s mind was certainly impressive, he pitied someone who couldn’t dull it every so often with liquor. 

“I’m going to walk around. I’ll be back in five,” Connor said before he squeezed Hank’s bicep.

Hank resigned himself to that being the last time he saw Connor tonight as he watched him leave. Connor maneuvered around the crowded bar, deftly avoiding people and their drinks. Damn, he looked good.

Hank turned back to the bar to order a double while he slid onto a stool. Resting his chin on his thumb, he gazed, unfocused, at the bar. 

This place was so different from Jimmy’s. It was full of people going somewhere to find something new, as opposed to resigned men just finding a dark place to lose themselves that wasn’t their apartment. Hank glanced to the curve of the bar to see younger men in tight-fitting clothes, all ready to live their lives. They had so much in front of them, like Connor did. He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear when the bartender dropped the drink in front of him. Hank reached for his wallet when the bartender stopped him.

“This one’s from the gentleman at the end of the bar.”

Hank was sure he has misheard the bartender, but the man made a subtle gesture to Hank’s left. Hank turned to see a blond guy in his 30’s, maybe 40’s, braced against the wall. 

Hank lifted his drink to thank him, and the man nodded silently with a smile.

Now that is an unexpected turn of events, Hank thought as he raised his eyebrows into his whiskey.

Hank tried to push away the first thought that came to him, which was, ‘what in the hell is wrong with this guy?’ He instead stole little glances on the man, who always seemed to be looking back at him. 

After a few minutes, he glanced up the find the man gone. Before he had a chance to look around, he heard a bright voice from his right.

“You come here often?” he asked.

Hank winced a bit at the line. When he turned, he noticed that the man was actually younger than he seemed in the corner of the bar. He had bright blue eyes and a pleasant smile. He was better looking than the last guy he had slept with…which was about a decade ago.

“No, actually,” he replied, “But I’d have come here a lot sooner if I’d known they had free drinks.”

The guy chuckled and put out his hand.

“I’m Sam,” he said, “your drink benefactor.”

Hank took Sam’s hand, “Well, thank you, I appreciate it.”

Sam sat down on the stool next to Hank. “So, what do you do?” he asked.

“I’m a cop,” Hank replied.

Sam couldn’t hide his surprise, “Really?

Hank nodded, “Really.”

“I don’t meet many cops here,” Sam said, tipping his beer into his mouth.

“That makes sense, because I don’t meet many gay guys at work,” Hank smiled when the line garnered a laugh from Sam. 

His laugh was nice, light and cheerful. His gaze lifted to meet Hank’s and he couldn’t help but return the expression. It felt good to talk like this. It especially felt good to talk like this with someone who wasn’t Connor, someone who was available. His vision was starting to get softer, which was helping him not think about the men Connor was talking to.

“How’s it going, Hank?” Connor asked.

Hank swallowed.

“Back already, Connor?” Hank said to the bartender. It had more bite than he had intended.

“I’m Connor,” his partner said airily, introducing himself to Sam.

“Sam,” the man replied as he shook the android’s hand. Hank detected a sweep of Sam’s vision over Connor’s frame. He wasn’t surprised. He finished his drink and motioned to the bartender for third.

“Are you two…?” Sam asked.

Before Hank could reply, Connor interjected, “Yeah, we actually are,” as he slid a few inches closer to Hank.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Sam said, retreating off the stool. “Have a great night.”

Hank squinted into his new drink, smoothly delivered to him by his new favorite bartender in the world. 

Connor took Sam’s place next to Hank and folded his hands in front of him. Hank sipped the drink, holding it in front him. He pursed his lips and turned to Connor.  
“So, how are you doing?”

Connor didn’t reply right away. His gaze stuck to the bottles of alcohol behind the bar. His face was set in an expression that made Hank certain his LED was spinning red, though he couldn’t see it. So, they sat in silence and both let Hank’s question go unanswered.

Eventually, Connor said something, “Want to go home?”

“I’ve wanted to go home since we got here,” Hank said, downing his drink. “When’s the cab going to get here?”

“About to arrive,” Connor confirmed. 

Hank stood up, stumbling for a moment before catching his balance on Connor’s arm. Connor stood and slid an arm around his waist, pulling Hank into his side as they walked to the exit. And while Hank was drunk enough to feel unstable, he would have had to be completely wasted to not commit to memory what it felt like to be this close to Connor.

After helped Hank into the car, he skipped to the other side to get in.

The drive back to the house was quiet, which was good for Hank’s thoughts. His brain was a bit clearer by the time they got home, though he was growing more and more concerned about Connor. Usually Connor was a chatterbox; there was nothing Hank could do to shut him up. But tonight Connor was quiet, thoughtful.

Connor let them into the house and turned on the lights. He went right to the back door to let Sumo out as Hank walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He was an experienced drinker—he knew water would help him feel better tomorrow. Hank rubbed his eyes as he heard Sumo patter back into the house.

“Hank, how are you?” Connor asked as he closed the back door. 

“Pretty good,” he said, scrubbing his hand over his face. He looked up to see Connor’s LED was still red and he gestured to it, “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” Connor replied.

“What’s on your mind?” Hank asked.

Connor didn’t reply right away. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up at Hank, his curl laying gracefully on his forehead. 

“I’ve been thinking more about what we talked about. About what people should want and what people actually want.” 

“Ah, the ‘particularly insightful’ comment I made.” 

Connor gave a hollow laugh. But he was fingering the coin in his pocket, Hank could tell. 

Connor took a step towards Hank, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I know what I want.”

Hank took a breath. He wasn’t quite drunk enough, or sober enough, to handle this conversation with Connor. He didn’t think he could handle Connor telling him about other guys yet. Hank put down the half-full glass behind him and waited.

“That’s good, Con,” he said. “I’m happy for you.”

Hank turned around to find Connor in the same position. His face was pointed to the ground, but his eyes lifted to Hank. 

“Hank.” Connor said, declaratively. “I want you.”

Hank’s mouth dropped open as he scanned Connor’s face. A question rested in his eyes, one that only increased as Connor took a few more steps toward him.

“I didn’t know what I was looking for, really, until I saw you talking to that guy. That’s when I knew,” Connor said as he placed himself a few inches in front of Hank. “I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out.” 

Hank’s fingers twitched on the counter behind him. This wasn’t supposed to happen; Connor wasn’t supposed to want him. Connor was gorgeous and young and perfect. Hank was old and broken. 

He swallowed once before Connor got even closer. He hovered in front of Hank’s face, his eyes looking into Hank’s. 

“Do you want me?” Connor asked.

“Connor--” Hank started just before Connor kissed him.

His mouth was soft. Impossibly, perfectly soft. Hank opened his mouth as Conner’s hands found their way behind Hank’s neck. His tongue grazed Connor’s lips as one hand rested on his waist and the other slid around his lower back, pulling him closer in. He knew he shouldn’t, but he wasn’t strong enough to stop it. Not now.

Connor’s nails dug into the back of Hank’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. Hank gripped Connor’s hip bone and pushed it away, spinning him around to pin him to the counter. Connor moaned against Hank’s mouth and he truly, completely thought this must be a dream.

“You looked so hot tonight, Hank,” Connor breathed as he took one ear lobe into his mouth.

A growl emanated from deep in Hank’s core as he braced one of his hands behind Connor, pressing him into the cabinet behind it.

But in Hank’s desperation, he knocked the half-full glass, sending it clattering across the counter and dripping water onto the floor. Connor’s lips broke from Hank as he turned to see what happened. And it was just enough time for Hank to pull away and look at Connor, braced against the counter with swollen lips. Connor didn’t get out of breath, but his chest was rising and falling like he was. 

Connor stood there with his mouth open, completely ready for him, tempting as hell. Hank wanted nothing more than to rip Connor’s belt off and drag him into the bedroom. He was just drunk enough to think it wouldn’t be a bad idea.

But Hank stepped back, placing his hands on the kitchen chair behind him. 

“Is everything okay?” Connor asked, his LED still red, but slowing slightly.

“We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Connor asked, his voice cracking.

“Con, I…want you. Christ, I want you so bad.” Hank held out his hand, holding it against Connor’s chest. Connor lifted one of his hands to Hank’s interlacing their fingers.

“That shit’s not fair,” Hank said softly.

“But if it’s what we both want?” Connor asked, taking a step towards him, “Is that bad?”

Hank turned his head, just inches from Connor’s mouth. He was close enough to know that Connor could feel his breath. Hank exhaled as he spun away, retreating into the hallway. 

“We just can’t, Connor. The DPD, us, it won’t work,” he thought about Connor’s job, all the people he could be with, all the time he would have the Hank didn’t. Connor was too young to know what this was going to be. 

And Hank knew. They might have a good night, or a few good nights, but it wouldn’t be enough. Things would end and it would jeopardize so much more than their friendship.

“Connor, please, find someone else. Anyone else,” Hank pleaded.

“Like Sam at the bar?” Connor spat.

“Exactly,” Hank said, surprising his partner. “You need someone who’s actually good for you.”

“And if that’s not what I want?” Connor asked, his LED spinning yellow.

Hank dropped his gaze to the floor, “I’m not strong enough to say no to you twice, Connor. Please don’t make me.”

Connor was built to be an android hunter. He was built to be strong, fast, and silent. And he was nothing less when he walked out of Hank’s house that night. 

While Hank walked to the bathroom and stripped off the outfit Connor had picked for him, washed his face and ran his fingers over his lips where he had tasted Connor, it was all he thought of.

Connor was built to attract people, built to be perfect. It was inevitable that Hank would fall for him. Connor’s interest in Hank only made sense because they spent so much time together. Hank was too big a part of Connor’s life.

Hank rubbed the space in between his eyes before grabbing the Black Lamb and the glass that had rolled to the edge of the sink. The counter still dripped water into a puddle on the floor. Hank didn’t care.

He dropped to the couch and kicked off his boots, pouring more than his usual two fingers of whiskey. The streetlight shone through the blinds, casting a shadow across the dark living room, and a snoring Sumo. Hank put his drink down and leaned back on the couch, his eyes tracing the corners of the ceiling.

He was alone again.


	4. The Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor come to an agreement about what they should do regarding the night before.

Spring was drifting into summer and the sun was already out, shining in Hank’s eyes. He tapped the steering wheel with one finger as he turned up the music with the other hand, trying to drown out the cycle of thoughts he had been chewing on since last night.

He had no idea what he was going to say to Connor when he saw him. He ran through scenarios, trying to predict how either of them would react. There was no question in Hank’s mind that he had done the right thing, no matter how much time he had spent fantasizing about what would have happened if he had pulled Connor into his bedroom. 

He shook his head, trying to erase the vision. He was not successful.

He pulled into the parking lot, the first time in six months he had done so without Connor in the passenger seat. The radio blared and he leaned forward to rest his forehead on the steering wheel. Today was his appointment with Fowler confirming the next two years of working at the DPD, of working with Connor as his partner. He didn’t regret the deal, but it felt different after what had happened last night.

Hank groaned. 

With resignation, he turned the car off and opened the door, squinting at the overeager sun. He trudged into the office and made his way to the desk. He shrugged out of his coat and hunched in front of the computer, waiting for it to boot. 

The DPD was quiet this morning. Only a few people were already in the office, which was typical. It was just a little before eight, which was early for everyone else and egregiously early for Hank. The only reason he was here at this hour was because of Connor—he wanted to know the second his partner came into the office. He wasn’t sure how another conversation would help, or hurt, their relationship, but he was eager to smooth things over with Connor and make sure they were okay.

Hank’s fist held up his cheek as he re-read the dozens of case files that he and Connor we set to work on. 

His eyes glazed over, and he realized he hadn’t even gotten his normal cup of crappy DPD coffee yet. With a dramatic sigh, he stood up and crossed to the kitchen, giving a perfunctory wave to Chris, who was walking toward the exit. 

Rubbing his eyes, he added sugar and cream, stirring the coffee before glancing at the clock on the wall. No sign of Connor yet, and it was almost nine. Hank frowned into his coffee before throwing away the stirrer and leaving the kitchen.

The office was filling up—almost every desk was occupied except Connor’s. Hank’s frown deepened.

He glanced at Gavin’s desk and saw someone perched on it. Gavin sat in his chair, wide-legged with his arms crossed. Hank was surprised to see the cretin smiling instead of donning his usual scowl. 

Hank did a double-take.

The person perched on the desk couldn’t be him.

“Connor?” Hank asked, surprising even himself.

“Good morning, Lieutenant! You beat me to the office today,” Connor said cheerily. Today, of all days, Connor had finally started to dress like a civilian. His slacks were still perfectly pressed but paired with stylish wing-tip shoes. He was wearing a button-down like usual, but it was a deep blue instead of his typical white. There was no tie in sight.

“Must be a new feeling for you, old-timer,” Gavin said with a smirk. 

“Looking for another android to rough up, Reed?” Hank asked.

Gavin laughed and brought his hands behind his neck, leaning back in his chair and popping one ankle onto his knee. 

“That was months ago, Anderson. Besides, this tin can is starting to grow on me,” Gavin said, cocking his head to Connor next to him.

Connor rolled his eyes, “Charming.” 

Gavin opened his mouth to say something but settled for a wink in the android’s direction.

Connor, who as far as Hank understood hated Gavin just as much as he did, had the gall to fucking smile at the creep before standing up.

“Ready to work, Con?” Hank asked as they took the few steps to their desks.

“Of course, Lieutenant,” Connor replied. 

The next few hours were some of the most perplexing Hank had experienced with his non-human partner. Connor, for his part, was acting like nothing had happened. If anything, he was happier than usual, which was a stretch because he was already outrageously sunny for the DPD.

It was only right before lunch when Connor caught Hank squinting at him that his expression changed.

“Lieutenant?” Connor asked.

Hank didn’t break his gaze on his partner’s face but furrowed his brow.

Connor gave a heavy sigh and swiveled his chair towards his partner. Tilting his head to the side, he plastered a waxy smile on his face.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“Why are you being weird,” Hank asked flatly.

Connor blinked and smoothly gestured to his computer, “You mean by working?”

“Cut the shit,” Hank said. “You know what I mean.”

“Is this something you want to talk about here?” Connor asked. “Or can I buy you lunch?”

There aren’t a lot of things that other people could do to make Hank feel even worse about himself. But after last night, Connor offering to buy him lunch was like a knife in his side.

“Let’s go,” Hank said, already standing up.

The drive to Chicken Feed was short and Hank kept the music loud. Connor was passing that stupid coin back and forth over his knuckles and gazing out the window. Hank kept trying to think of what to say but continued to come up empty.

They parked and Hank walked to the truck, ordering his usual and paying for it with a ten Connor had slipped on the counter. Connor walked to one of the high tops and leaned on it, kicking one of his feet behind the other. The umbrellas were down because of the nice weather and the sun shone across his face, his LED spinning sky blue. His hair glinted a light reddish tint, barely noticeable. Hank only tore his eyes away when his name was called.

Hank suddenly felt nervous, like he was about to ask the homecoming queen to prom. It wasn’t quite like butterflies. It was more like bees.

“Are you interested in discussing the calorie count of your lunch?” Connor asked, the corner of his mouth lifted.

“Extremely,” Hank replied, taking a long gulp of his pineapple soda.

Connor looked down, his smile fading slightly.

“So, we should talk about this,” he said to his feet.

“I suppose so,” Hank said as he picked up his burger. He wasn’t particularly hungry—the bees prevented that familiar feeling. But he was grateful to have something to occupy his mouth, leaving the ball squarely in his partner’s court.

“Look, Hank. I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have come onto you. I apologize.”

Hank chewed as he considered what to say. Before he could, Connor continued.

Connor looked at everything but Hank while he talked. “I’m just—I don’t know. I’m just trying to figure out what it means to be attracted to someone, how you know and really feel it. And I don’t know why I lost it when that guy came onto you. Just a weird reaction, I guess.” 

Hank nodded, “I get it, Con. Attraction is a weird thing.”

His eyes lifted to Hank’s and his expression lightened.

“You have grease on your chin.” 

Hank looked quizzically at his partner. “I thought that’s what did it for you?”

Connor laughed. A big, startled laugh that settled Hank’s stomach more than anything else could. 

“It’s a pretty specific kink, but yeah,” Connor said through his smile.

Hank wiped his mouth with a napkin, opting to leave the rest of his burger uneaten. Connor often made jokes about Hank’s diet, and damn if it wasn’t working to get him to give a shit about it.

“But from what I remember of last night, the attraction wasn’t exactly one-sided, Lieutenant.”

Hank sucked hard on his straw, tilting his head as if he were considered Connor’s comment. As if he needed to.

“You’re not wrong,” he confirmed.

“So, what do we do now?” Connor asked.

Hank set aside the remainder of his meal and folded his hands in front of him. 

“We ignore it,” Hank waved his hand in front of him dismissively. “You get a boyfriend or whatever, if that’s what you want, and we pretend it didn’t happen.”  
“Can I keep staying at your place?” Connor asked.

That wasn’t a question Hank had expected. “Of course, Con. I’m not going to kick you out.”

Connor looked out at Hank’s car and down the street, scanning a few people walking by. “I’m not sure if I want to.”

That was something Hank expected even less. “Oh,” he replied softly. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t considered that. Obviously, Connor was feeling that way. Hank made a mental note to add it to the proof points of him being an absolute dolt.

“Hank, I just don’t know how to pretend it didn’t happen. My memory is perfect. I can literally replay it in my head,” Connor said, tapping his LED.

The thought of Connor replaying the video of their kiss sent a charge of electricity through Hank at an incredibly inopportune time. He would have to push that memory down until he could get home.

“Can you ignore it? Pretend it didn’t happen?” Connor asked, seeming like he was genuinely curious.

Hank gave a half-shrug, “I’m used to not getting what I want.”

“That doesn’t exactly answer my question.”

“If you’re asking will I jump you in a few weeks in the break room, the answer is no.”

Connor raised his eyebrows and squared his body towards Hank. His hands rested in his pockets, giving him a relaxed look.

“Do you think that’s what I’m asking?”

“You’re asking if I can ignore it, and I’m saying I won’t do anything about it. So, there’s your answer,” Hank replied gruffly.

Connor turned something around in his head, leaving a silent moment in the conversation. Hank shifted from one foot to the other, crossing his arms and tilting his head back.

“If we didn’t work together, would you still have stopped me?” Connor’s question drifted between them like smoke as Hank blinked his vision to anywhere else.  
He swallowed. Connor was too smart for him; anything he said could be used against him later. He didn’t want Connor to move out. He didn’t want him to leave the DPD. He just wanted things to stay the fucking same. He settled for the truth, or at least a version of it.

“I don’t know, Connor,” this was the lie. But the second part was utterly true, “All I know is that I tend to fuck stuff up. And the next two years would be insufferable if I couldn’t work with you.”

“Two years?”

Hank took a breath and leaned forward a fraction of an inch. He hadn’t known how to tell Connor about the deal, and he supposed now was as terrible a time a ever. Everything else was garbage, why not add to it? 

“Yeah, two years,” Hank repeated. He rubbed the back of his neck and squinted up to the sky. “I was going to go for early retirement, but I made a deal with Fowler. I’d stay for another two years and head up android crimes if he kept you on as my partner.” 

“Fowler didn’t want to keep me on?” Connor’s voice wasn’t hurt, it was more confused than anything else.

“It’s nothing to do with you, Con. It’s just these backward asshats like Reed who are going to be dicks to androids until the day they die.”

Connor’s LED spun a few yellow circles as his eyes fluttered.

“We’re getting a call—we need to get back,” he said as he collected Hank’s trash and walked to the garbage can.

Hank was equal parts relieved and disturbed by the distraction. He didn’t want to leave this conversation open-ended. 

“Hey, are we okay?” he asked as he started the car.

“Of course, Lieutenant,” Connor replied confidently, his LED back to the soft blue. 

“Okay, I just…You can talk to me about this stuff, if you want,” Hank offered, glancing at his partner.

Connor had rolled the window down and rested his elbow on the frame. His head was tilted back in the sun, his eyes closed. 

“I know, Lieutenant.”


	5. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor cozies up to Gavin Reed, leading to a tense conversation in Hank's backyard.

The case ended up being a housekeeping android who was assaulted on her way to work. The pair followed lead after lead, none of which got them to the perp. That was common with these isolated attacks; the attackers seemed to disappear into thin air. 

So, while Hank’s and Connor’s relationship was returning to almost normal, Hank’s mood consistently hovered somewhere between infuriated and irate. 

And then there were the moments when Connor would touch his arm or glance at him in just the right way, making Hank’s mouth go dry. He didn’t know if Connor was trying to drive him out of his mind, but that was the result, nonetheless. Hank had even started drinking less, mostly simply to keep a clear head around Connor when they went home at night. 

Neither had brought up Connor moving out since their conversation about it the week before. Hank was hoping they could pretend enough, that Connor would find someone else and still stay at home with him. And it seemed to be working, until one day at the DPD.

Hank chewed his lip, idly swiveling his desk chair back and forth. His fingers drummed the desk as he stared at a case file. He was tired of the dead ends, the suffering without any sliver of justice. Though it was still early, the day was already heading in an infuriating direction.

Normally this would be when he would bother Connor, get him to distract Hank from what he was turning over in his head. But his partner wasn’t at his desk. Hank glanced to the kitchen, hoping Connor may be getting him a pre-emptive cup of coffee.

Connor was, in fact, in the kitchen. But he was talking to Gavin. 

Hank’s eyebrows drew together as his drumming on the desk increased in intensity.

Gavin leaned his shoulder against the wall, his hands in his pockets, facing Connor. Connor was gesturing in front of him, clearly telling some sort of involved story. Gavin’s head tilted towards Connor with a goofy grin on his dumb face. Once Connor delivered the punchline, Gavin threw his head back, placing a hand on Connor’s forearm. The two stood like that for four seconds. 

Hank narrowed his eyes and scowled before crossing the bullpen.

“What’s going on?” Hank asked.

“Chill, Anderson, I’m not making a move on your partner,” Reed said, cocking his head back.

“You’re not?” Connor asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gavin’s gaze returned to the android and he gave a crooked smile.

“Is that something you’d want?”

Connor gave a non-committal shrug and walked back to his desk, sliding his hands into his pockets. It had the effect of tightening the fabric, giving Hank and Gavin an even better view of his perfectly shaped ass.

“Your android’s a real piece of work, Anderson,” Gavin said, rubbing his chin.

“He’s not my android,” Hank snarled.

Gavin put his hands up in mock surrender, “Whatever you say. But he is rather easy on the eyes, I’ll give him that. Those guys are CyberLife really knew what they were doing.” 

This was so far away from anything Hank wanted to experience. Steeling himself to Connor’s flirations was hard enough. If he had to watch Connor and Gavin flirt, he was certainly going to kill himself. He might kill Gavin.

He probably wouldn’t.

But he might. 

“Quit it, Reed,” Hank barked before going back to his desk.

A chuckle followed from behind him and it took every ounce of his restraint, which wasn’t much to begin with, to keep walking and not push Reed through a goddamn window.

Hank dropped heavily into his chair, boring a hole into his desk with his eyes. When he looked up, Connor was staring at him, his elbows on his desk and his head on his hands. 

“So, Gavin, huh?” Hank said, nodding a little too quickly.

Connor gave the same shrug he had given Reed.

“He’s stupid, but not entirely unattractive. Could be fun for a few dates.”

“Fun? What would you two even talk about?” Hank asked.

“Politics, world events maybe?” Connor listed, his face giving away the joke.

Hank could not find it within himself to laugh, instead, he just wondered what Connor was driving at.

“Are you serious? Or are you messing with me again?” Hank said with none of the sarcastic tone he normally applied with his partner.

“About the politics, no,” Connor said declaratively. “But about the date, I don’t know. He used to be an asshole, and now he’s just a jerk. Plus, I know I could take him in a fight.”

“That’s where you set the bar for a good date?” Hank asked.

Connor crossed his arms and tilted his head. His LED faded to a soft yellow.

“Why are you being so weird about this?”

Hank stood up and rounded the corner to his partner’s desk. He grabbed the back of the chair and spun Connor around, so he was facing him. Placing his hands on either arm of the chair, he leaned forward. In the world’s worst stage whisper he said, “I’m being the weird one? When you’re talking about fucking Gavin fucking Reed?”

“I’m not, in fact, talking about fucking anyone, Lieutenant,” Connor replied calmly. “I’m considering spending some of my free time with a coworker.”

Hank narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t read what Connor was thinking. It seems outrageous that after everything that they had been through he would want to even be in the same room as Gavin, let alone go on a fucking date with the prick.

“And I’d appreciate if you backed off,” Connor said, standing up and pushing the chair back, setting Hank off balance. Connor walked right by Hank to Gavin’s desk, where he sat facing away from his partner, but leaning in towards Gavin.

Hank seethed his way back to his chair, slouching back and steepling his fingers in front of him. 

The fucking kid was trying to kill him. That must be it. There was literally no other reason that made sense.

It was only four o’clock, but Hank was done for the day. He powered down his console and slipped his jacket over his shoulders. Connor’s eyes followed him as he walked past Gavin’s desk.

“Lieutenant, are we leaving?”

“I’m going home. You’re doing whatever you want,” Hank said, “Obviously.”

“I’ll come with you. I need to change,” Connor said, dashing to his desk to get his suit jacket.

“Fine,” Hank said without slowing down. He walked to the car without looking back once, planning on leaving with or without Connor.

Hank started the car before hitting the seat and Connor just made it before Hank peeled out.

“Jesus, Hank, what is wrong with you?”

“What is WRONG with me? What is wrong with ME?” Hank shouted at his partner. “You are the one talking to Reed not simply like he’s a fucking human being, but like he’s someone you would consider sleeping with. There is nothing wrong with ME, Connor,” His hands gripped the steering wheel, the whites of his knuckles clearly visible.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought we were pretending?” Connor asked sarcastically.

“This has nothing to do with me, Con, and you fucking know it,” Hank said, pointing a finger at the android.

“That makes sense because you’re definitely not taking this personally at all.” 

Hank ripped his eyes from the road just long enough to glare at his partner. Connor was calm, serene even. His hands lay lightly in his lap and his body faced forward, just his head was turned toward Hank.

Hank’s anger flared in his belly. The rest of the drive was spent in silence, the two partners staring out at the road and waiting to get away from each other. 

The moment Hank turned off the engine in the driveway, Connor was out like a shot. He went in to get Sumo, heading to the backyard. Hank, for his part, did what he always did and went to the kitchen to get a drink. Or three.

Downing the whiskey, he watched Connor watching Sumo. Connor’s arms were folded in front of him and he leaned against a tree, looking so casual. The afternoon light was still bright but had turned more amber than earlier in the day. Sumo was rolling in the grass.

Hank’s fist rested on the counter as he poured another, just waiting for Connor come back inside. The familiar burn in his throat did some work to calm him, quieting his smoldering anger. 

Sumo came inside and Hank waited. He fed Sumo, patting his side, and glancing outside. Connor was still leaning against the tree and facing away from him. The light hit him in just the right way, clinging to him like snow. 

Hank finished the second whiskey as he walked outside, standing by his partner.

“Are you here to apologize?” Connor asked, not looking at him.

Hank shoved his hands in his pockets, studying the clouds. A dog barked in the distance, causing Sumo to give off a half-hearted growl from the kitchen.

“Does it have to be Gavin Fucking Reed?” Hank asked powerlessly. 

“Why shouldn’t I go out with Gavin Fucking Reed?” Connor asked, imitating Hank’s tone.

“Why don’t you try accessing some of those memory records you’re always bragging about, Con?” The previously smoldering anger was flaring up again. “Gosh, I don’t know. Maybe because he hates androids? Maybe because he hires them to fuck because he’s a pathetic loser who can’t get anyone to fuck him for real? Maybe because he’s a godawful cop? How many other reasons do you need?”

“This is a terrible apology,” Connor said, turning to Hank.

Hank gave a sharp nod. “You’re damn right it is. I won’t apologize for wanting you to be with someone at least halfway decent.” Hank squared himself to Connor and held out one hand, explaining. “You deserve to be with someone who cares about you, thinks about you, and just generally gives a shit about what you do with your life.”

“Someone who respects me.”

“Yeah.”

“Someone who wants me to be happy.”

“Yes,” Hank nodded.

“So, someone who treats me the way you treat me,” Connor said.

“Exactly,” Hank said quickly, locking eyes with Connor. His face fell and he set his jaw to one side. Connor, for his part, looked impassive. But behind it was something deep set like stone.

Connor shrugged, “That’s what I want, too.” His brown eyes looked up at Hank as the one fallen curl swayed in the wind. 

All the defenses Hank had built up, the ironclad rules he had built around himself, were beginning to waver. Connor was as determined as a freight train and Hank wasn’t sure he could switch the tracks. 

Connor turned to go back inside. 

But Hank didn’t let him.

Grabbing his wrist, Hank pulled Connor into him, wrapping one arm around his waist and catching his mouth with his own. Hank’s tongue ran across Conner’s bottom lip, coaxing it open. With a quiet moan, Connor leaned into Hank and brought his fist to Hank’s hair. Hank’s hand dipped to Connor’s lower back, pressing into him.

Hank’s hand spread over Connor’s chest and to his thirium pump, tracing the edge of it and sending a shiver through Connor.

“I think we should go inside,” Connor breathed quickly as Hank kissed down his throat, holding his neck in place. He felt Connor swallow and smiled against him. 

Without answering, they both half-stumbled, half-walked towards the house, still trying to keep their mouths locked on one another. Almost tripping on Sumo, Connor was the one to remember to close the back door behind them.

Hank had taken off his coat earlier, but Connor’s was still on. Hank tugged on the jacket, not being able to get it off him fast enough. Connor was making quick work of Hank’s shirt, dragging it over his head. Hank’s fingers tried desperately to undo Connor’s buttons, but to no avail.

“Fuck I can’t do this,” he said, frustrated and out of breath.

“Here,” said Connor before he deftly lifted his shirt and threw it to the floor.

Even in the fluorescent light of Hank’s crappy hallway, Connor was a fucking masterpiece.

“Con, you’re—you’re beautiful,” Hank said, almost to himself.

A slow smile grew on Connor’s face as Hank closed the distance between them, gently kissing his eyebrow, cheek, and then mouth. 

Connor reached for Hank’s belt, but Hank stopped him.

“If you do that, I’m not going to last long,” he said, rubbing Connor’s hand.

Connor gave a wicked grin, “I’m counting on it,” he said into Hank’s mouth. But Hank deflected Connor’s hands long enough to get him into the bedroom and lower him to the bed. 

Connor’s hands clawed at Hank’s back, pulling tighter in. Hank growled into Connor’s mouth and grabbed his hair, pulling him to one side to have better access. Hank sucked the skin where Connor’s neck and shoulder met, and Connor reflexively bucked into Hank, who pinned him down.

“Hank,” Connor whined.

“I know, honey,” Hank said as he reached down to Connor’s pants. 

Truthfully, Hank had no idea what to expect. He knew there were attachments, upgrades, the sort of thing that the Eden Club boasted of. And, if he were being honest, things he had gone looking for online out of a curiosity that emerged from his frequent fantasies.

Fantasies about this, right here.

Hank pulled off Connor’s belt.

“How’s that button going to go for you?” Connor asked, glancing at his pants.

Hank smiled, bringing his face up to Connor’s and bracing himself on his elbows.

“You know, you can be such a brat.”

“Only with you,” Connor said as he brought his hands to either sides of Hank’s face and kissed him. One of Hank’s hands brushed against Connor’s cheek.

“Is this okay?” Hank asked.

When Connor pulled away, he saw that concern had washed over Hank’s face.

“Hank, I’m in love with you. And I think you know that you’re in love with me.” 

Hank gave a small nod.

Connor pushed Hank, turning him onto his back. Running his hands over his chest and around his shoulders, he leaned forward.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he said, biting Hank’s earlobe.

Hank groaned, his hands lifting to Connor’s hips and pulling him down, forcing a shudder from Connor’s spine.

As was becoming apparent to Hank, Connor definitely had a cock. One that strained against the slacks as he sat straight up to grind into Hank’s hips. Hank closed his eyes and leaned his head back, trying to feel all of Connor. His hands on Hank’s chest, his thighs squeezing against him, his ass grinding against Hank’s cock.

Suddenly, Connor lifted off of Hank, who let out a strangled whine in response. Connor’s delicate hands went to Hank’s pants, unbuttoning and slipping them down. Hank lifted his hips as his pulse quickened and Connor wrapped his arms under Hank’s thighs, taking all of Hank’s cock in his mouth.

The view alone was enough to make Hank lose control. The view paired the sensation of Connor’s tongue sliding over him was actually too much. Connor’s mouth was all silk and velvet.

“Con, you’re going to have to slow down if—”

Connor pressed a finger against Hank’s hole and Hank’s hands reacted immediately. He grabbed Connor’s head, pulling him in deeper just as he came all at once into Connor’s mouth.

Shivers reverberated through Hank’s body as he lay back and his hands dropped at his sides. Connor slid his way up Hank’s body to rest at his side, propping his head up on his crooked elbow. He lay his palm on Hank’s heart, pulling his synth skin back as he felt Hank’s pulse begin to slow.

“You’re gorgeous,” Connor said.

Hank’s eyes were still closed as he tried to recover, but he felt the smile spread over his face.

“You…are very good…at this,” Hank said in between breaths.

They lay like that for a few moments, Connor with his hand on Hank’s heart and Hank trying to revive himself from the stupor Connor had induced. Once Hank opened his blue eyes, they went straight to Connor’s. 

He turned on his side so the two could face each other. 

“Lieutenant,” Connor remarked softly.

“Detective,” Hank replied, returning a small nod.

“How much time do you normally need to recover?” Connor asked cozily.

Hank smiled, running his hand down Connor’s waist and resting on his hip. 

“Normal doesn’t exactly apply to this situation,” Hank said as the hand drifted down to Connor’s crotch.

Connor’s eyes rolled back as Hank softly traced the outline of his length. Connor’s legs twitched and his mouth fell open. Hank’s other hand went to Connor’s mouth, his thumb tracing his lips. Connor took the digit and sucked it in, biting gently as he shuddered towards Hank.

“Hank,” Connor pleaded, the word garbled from Hank’s thumb.

“Just a little longer, baby,” Hank said as he inched closed to Connor. He shoved his thumb deeper into Connor’s mouth as his eyes popped open and he leaned back slightly, his hand hovering over Hank’s chest.

Hank unzipped Connor’s slacks and started rubbing his cock. Connor pressed his hips into Hank’s hand, trying to eliminate the final layer of fabric between them. 

Hank took his thumb out of Connor’s mouth and wrapped his hand around Connor’s neck, pulling him into a kiss. Connor’s hands were desperate, clawing at Hank’s chest and back.

Hanks palm landed flat on Connor’s chest and pressed him flat on the bed, pinning him. They both knew Connor was stronger than Hank—that’s how he was built. But Connor lay there, panting, waiting for Hank to make a move. 

Hank gave a crooked, dark smile as he towered over Connor. 

“Are you going to be good?”

Connor’s pupils widened as he gave a nod. Hank knew how Connor was used to being in control, knowing all the outcomes before they happened. He wanted to break that control, just a little. 

“Then take off your pants.”

Connor swallowed. Something, Hank noted, he didn’t do often. Briefly, Hank wondered if that was a response to arousal in him just like it was in humans. He filed that away to ask about later. 

The android undid the button of his already-unzipped pants and dragged them off his hips. He lay still, his cock laying flat against his stomach. 

Hank knelt between Connor’s legs, hovering his hands above his thighs. He ran a feather-light touch up from Connor’s knee to his abdomen, pulling Connor’s hips towards him with an invisible thread.

The red LED spun erratically in Connor’s head, lit by the afternoon sun shining in the window.

Hank finally lay a palm flat on Connor’s hip bone and was rewarded by a low groan from Connor. His eyes a little wild, he brought a half on top of Hank’s, “Please,” he muttered.

“Is this what you want?” Hank said as he slid over Connor’s thigh to his cock. 

Connor grasped the sheets by his head as Hank felt and teased him. Connor’s hips bucked and a little synthetic liquid beaded on the tip of his cock, Hank smoothing it over. Hank had read about synthetic lubrication in androids, and he experimentally checked to see if Connor had that feature. He was not disappointed. 

“Jesus, Con, you’re so wet,” Hank remarked.

Connor refocused his eyes on Hank just long enough to give a crooked, self-satisfied smile. “Is that okay?”

Hank grabbed Connor’s hand, bringing it to his own hard cock as if he needed proof. 

Hank grazed his lips over Connor's before sitting up at the head of the bed, pulling Connor into his lap. Connor immediately ground his hips into Hank’s cock, eliciting a rumbling groan from Hank’s chest. Hank felt down, stretching Connor out. In this position, surrounded by Connor, he didn’t know how long he would last. 

“Please, Hank,” Connor asked for the second time.

This time, Hank didn’t make him wait.

Hank squared his hips and pushed into Connor. Connor’s back went rigid as he audibly gasped, clawing at Hank’s thighs. Hank bit down on Connor’s shoulder, stifling his own cry. 

Connor’s hips rocked into Hank once, then twice. Hank reached around to feel his cock, stroking it up and down as Connor’s hand flew backwards to grind Hank’s teeth deeper into his shoulder. 

None of it was enough for either of them as they melded together, their hips rolling in sync.

Hank felt the muscles in Connor’s back tense against him as he came, a half-human noise filling Hank’s bedroom. Seeing Connor throw his head back and lose control was too much for Hank, who followed shortly after Connor.

The two sat like that, twitching into each other, for a few moments. Regaining some control, Hank kissed a line from Connor’s neck to the tip of his shoulder. Connor’s hands lightly rested on Hank’s thighs, still jerking periodically. 

“Con?” Hank asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Connor said, his voice cracking on the word.

“You okay?” Hank asked, breathing into his shoulder.

Connor slid off Hank’s lap, curling into him. Hank wrapped his arm around Connor’s waist and slid the other under the pillow. His palm rested on Connor’s thirium pump, tracing the edges.

Connor brought both his hands up to Hank’s arm that was behind his head, pulling it into his chest. Hank watched the LED spin slower and slower until it rested at a dim blue. He wasn’t sure, but he suspected Connor was in stasis.

Hank squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tears begin to sting.

On some level, he knew he would never have been able to pretend the kiss had never happened. He knew that. The stakes were too high, the feelings too strong. And so of course, here they were, curled up in Hank’s bed. 

Hank gently kissed the back of Connor’s head, careful not to wake him, before falling asleep.


	6. The Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank wakes up beside Connor and they contend with their future.

Hank was careful to stay completely still once he woke up, squinting out the window as the sun shone between the blinds. He wanted this moment to last, and any movement threatened to end it for Hank. Connor was tucked into him, his head curled into Hank’s neck. 

Hank smiled into Connor’s hair, blinking away the sleep in his eyes. 

The feeling of holding Connor here, the passive feeling of trust and comfort was like a drug for Hank. He knew it wasn’t forever; he knew Connor would wake up and they would have to talk and figure out what it was.

But in this moment, even Hank didn’t think he could screw it up. It felt too good, too peaceful, and too solid. Pushing away his worries, he closed his eyes, inching just barely closer to Connor. He didn’t want to fall asleep—he didn’t want to miss any of it.

But the light betrayed Hank and Connor eventually stirred. He rolled backward just enough to lift his head and rest it back on the pillow, his eyes drifting open.

Hank smoothed a hand over his own hair, pulling it away from his face. Connor was perfect, just as he always was. Sunlight dusted his cheekbones and contoured his shoulders against the still dark bedroom. Hank didn’t say anything but simply lifted his hand to Connor’s chin, brushing against his lips. Connor chased Hank’s hand, kissing it gently while he looked into Hank’s eyes.

“Good morning,” Hank said.

“Hi, Hank,” Connor said, resting a hand over Hank’s heart and closing his eyes. 

“Do you—”

“Shh…” Connor whispered, pulling his synth skin back. 

Hank’s mouth was still open, hanging on the question he didn’t get to ask. But Connor was serene, laying there with his eyes closed. Hank surprised himself by not feeling self-conscious, content just waiting for Connor.

When Connor re-opened his eyes, he gave a lazy smile.

“I like your heartbeat,” he said.

“My heartbeat?” Hank asked.

“Yeah. It’s nice. Unhurried and,” Connor searched for the word, “deliberate.” 

“Well, gosh. Thanks?” Hank said with a crooked smile. 

“You’re welcome,” Connor said. 

Connor pulled back his hand, leaving Hank feeling empty. His brow furrowed in response as he looked down at the mess of the bed and the clothes strewn on the floor.

“What time is it?” 

“It’s almost eight,” Connor said. “We should be getting to work by 8:30 for the briefing.”

“That’s soon,” Hank replied.

Connor nodded, “It is.”

Hank caught Connor’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together. Connor pulled back his synth skin again, recording Hank’s fingerprints and callouses. 

“Does it feel different when you do that?” Hank asked.

“Yes,” Connor replied confidently. “Like feeling everything at once, but in a good way.”

Hank smiled, bringing Connor’s hand to his lips, “I think I have an idea of what that’s like.”

Connor inhaled sharply when Hank’s lips touched his hand, the smooth white plastic still showing. 

Hank raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah,” Connor said, pushing Hank’s shoulder into the bed before rolling to the edge of the bed and standing up. Stark naked, he cocked his head at Hank. “Don’t you need to shower?” he asked.

Hank propped himself up on his elbows, “I could shower.”

Connor walked to the door, “I’ll let Sumo out—get the shower started and I’ll join you.”

He disappeared through the door and Hank rested back for a quick moment, studying the same ceiling he’d been looking at for years. He couldn’t stop grinning and for the first time in a long fucking time, he felt hopeful. 

He rolled to the edge and got up, hopping into the shower. 

Connor joined a few minutes later, distracting Hank from the shower’s primary goal.

Within ten minutes, Connor had torn them from the shower, gotten them dressed, and walked to the door. He had slipped a granola bar into Hank’s pocket, knowing he would be grumpy if he didn’t have the chance to eat.

“We could call out, you know,” Hank said, snaking his hand around Connor’s waist and pulling him in.

“Hank, you know you couldn’t manage that with Fowler. Besides, you don’t have any sick days left and we have too many cases,” Connor said, twisting out of Hank’s grasp and making his way to the door.

Hank’s mischievous smile melted to one side of his face in an expression he hoped looked less like a grimace than it felt. This morning had been perfect, distanced from reality and responsibilities. He glanced at the car and the keys in his hand; these were all things leading him and Connor to tough conversations. In the shower, in bed, they could be whatever they wanted. They didn’t need to worry about their job or their future. Whether it was now or later, he knew they would talk, and he knew where it would lead, where it had to lead.

So, Hank did the only thing he could to grasp one last moment.

Grabbing Connor, he pressed him against the open door, kissing him deeply. Connor’s hands lifted to Hank’s face as he smiled into him, his tongue grazing Hank’s. 

“What was that for?” Connor asked, his eyes searching Hank’s.

Hank forced a smile, “For last night.”

Connor flashed a smile and pecked him on the lips before crossing to the car. He opened his door and glanced at Hank, who hadn’t moved.

“Ready?”

Hank took a deep breath and turned to the door, locking it. He didn’t want to face the world with Connor yet. He wanted to hide, exist outside of the mess of the DPD, and the android assault cases that awaited them. All he wanted was Connor, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything else would try to tear them apart.  
He walked to the car and slid into the driver’s seat.

“We should get there with a few minutes to spare before the briefing, as long as the traffic is as expected,” Connor said as he fanned through Hank’s CD case. He picked one of the more mellow albums Hank had and slipped it into the disc slot. 

Hank chewed his lip as he drove, barely noticing the roads, instead opting to review all the questions he wanted to ask Connor. What did Connor want? What did this mean their job? Were they going to hide this from everyone at the DPD? 

As he pulled into the parking space, the thoughts were spinning faster than he wanted. Before shifting into park, he asked the biggest question.

“What are we doing, Connor?”

Hank didn’t know what he expected as a response to the question, but he knew extraordinarily little would have surprised him. Connor insisting they keep it quiet, questioning if they should have done it at all, or even breaking it off were all viable options in Hank’s mind.

Instead, he was met with another question.

“Are you in love with me?” Connor asked.

Hank remembered the words they uttered against each other in the night. In the dark, against bare skin, he remembered Connor saying he loved him.

But in the morning light, Connor’s dark shirt perfectly offsetting his eyes and hair, Hank felt small and scared. His eyes fell to his hands and he thought about what it would mean, what all of it would lead to.

And Connor wasn’t going to let him.

Connor's hand snapped to Hank’s chin, pulling him to look Connor in the eye.

“Well?”

And all the pretending, all the barriers that Hank relied on before yesterday were suddenly indefensible. He was disarmed, and so he gave in.

“Yes. Irrevocably so, I’m afraid.”

Catching Connor off guard was rare, but something softened in his gaze. 

“You are altogether lovely, Hank Anderson,” Connor said before grazing his lips against Hank’s cheek. “I love you too. Let’s go inside,” he said, swinging the car door open and hopping out.

Connor’s cagey response didn’t answer Hank’s question, nor did it address any of the questions he turned around in his head. But damn if it wasn’t worth it to hear those words and feel those lips. He probably didn’t have a choice, but he made the decision nonetheless to follow this where it took him, fully expecting heartbreak to collide with him sooner rather than later.

They walked into the DPD just like they did every day and sat next to each other in the briefing. Reed kept glancing over at Connor, who stared straight ahead. Hank couldn’t hide the smile that erupted on his face, so he rested his head in his hand, almost covering it. 

Back at their desks, Hank tried to focus on his work, when all he wanted to focus on was Connor. The android leaned over a case file, deftly flipping through papers collecting data. His neck stretched away from his shoulders and Hank swallowed, remembering what it tasted like.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. If he was going to get any work done, either today or ever again, he was going to need to control himself. 

So, went to the kitchen, hoping a cup of coffee would help. Absently stirring it, he refocused on the TV which was sharing a news story about a specific model of android that had joined police departments across the country.

“The RK900 unit was initially designed as an advanced investigative model. Since the revolution, many have been integrated into police departments throughout the country, proving themselves invaluable in the war on crime,” reported a stiff newscaster from a police department in rural Michigan.

It was Connor. 

Well, it was damn close to Connor. Maybe taller and a bit more austere, but really fucking close. 

Deviated androids had joined police departments? How was it okay for them to join police departments and for Connor to be on the edge of losing his job? Why the fuck had Fowler lied to him?

Hank threw the full cup of coffee in the trash and marched to Fowler’s office. He threw open the door, barging in on a meeting between Fowler and Reed.

“Whoa, Anderson, what’s the deal?” Gavin asked.

“Beat it, Reed. I need to talk to Fowler,” Hank rumbled.

“Are you going to resign? How will we fail to solve all those android cases without you, Hank?” Gavin smirked.

Hank was not known for his restraint. But he deserved a fucking medal for not shooting Gavin right then and there.

“Reed. I’m giving you three seconds. I’m not fucking around,” Hank growled.

Though Reed was an idiot, even he could tell when it wasn’t worth his while to push more buttons, so he made his way to the door, almost running into Connor.

“Hey, if you wanted to cop a feel, you just needed to let me know, RK,” Reed said airily to Connor.

But Connor wasn’t having it and pushed him aside, letting the door slot closed and shut him out.

“Detective, this doesn’t concern you,” Fowler said, and Hank’s head snapped to his partner.

“I disagree, Captain,” Connor said evenly, walking to his desk.

“I don’t know what the fuck either of you is talking about, but I need to talk to Fowler.” He stole a glance towards Connor, “Alone, Con,” he tried to add as gently as possible given what his heart rate would allow.

“Am I right in assuming you saw the news report about the RK900 units in police departments, Lieutenant?” Connor asked.

Hank narrowed his eyes at him, only breaking his gaze to Fowler who started rubbing his eyebrows.

“Shit, I didn’t think the story would come out this early,” said Fowler.

“The information wasn’t slated to be released for another two months, Captain.”

“Would someone like to tell me what the fuck is going on?” Hank asked the room.

Connor and Fowler locked eyes and Hank looked back and forth between them. 

“I swear to god—” Hank started before being interrupted by Connor.

“It was my idea, Lieutenant.” 

“What was your idea?” Hank asked.

“The deal,” answered Fowler.

Hank blinked in response, his mouth hanging open.

“Lieutenant, I heard you talking about early retirement, and I knew that wouldn’t be good for you. I wanted you to stay, and I knew that the Captain wanted that too. So, he and I made a deal of our own, making sure you stayed at the DPD.”

“Connor’s job was never in danger?” Hank asked, turning to the captain.

Jeff rubbed the back of his neck, “No, it wasn’t.”

“So why lie to me? Why get me to stay?” Hank said, trying to work it out.

“Hank, we all know what you would have done if you retired. You would have drunk yourself to death in two months, tops. We were looking out for you, trying to get you to stay for longer so you could get yourself sorted,” Jeff said, holding his palms out with the explanation.

“Lieutenant, I suspected the only thing that would keep you here was your concern for someone else, so I came up with the idea.”

Hank looked between the two conspirators. He then turned to Connor. “Just to keep me working at the DPD?”

“Well, that and something else.” Connor tilted his head, a smooth smile appearing on his face. “I also got you, Lieutenant.”

Fowler shook his head as Hank turned to him, putting his hands up. “Look, ever since you two became partners you show up on time, get your work done, and you’re much less of a pain in my ass. He said something might, happen, or whatever, and I said it would be fine. As long as you don’t, you know, make it too obvious, or whatever.” Fowler trailed off at the end there, shifting in his seat. His discomfort was palpable.

Hank blinked his way between the two of them. 

“I need to get some air,” Hank muttered before stepping back to the door.

“Hank—” Connor started.

“Connor. Stop.” Hank insisted, seeing Connor’s face fall. The android’s eyebrows drew together into a question. 

Hank turned on his heel and walked out of Fowler’s office, the bullpen, and the building. He got to his car and slipped in, leaning back in his seat. He folded his arms and glared at the dashboard. 

Hank should be angry. That was his typical emotional response, and this certainly merited a healthy dose of Hank anger.

But instead, he just felt stupid. He felt embarrassed. He felt small.

Did Fowler and Connor really think that little of him? They thought he couldn’t control himself, that he couldn’t keep his life together without the job.

Hank closed his eyes and remembered talking to Fowler. He had been ready to leave. He had been so ready to just get out, stop caring about all the cases that came in, and finally start…

Start doing what?

His eyes popped open and a pit dropped in his stomach.

They had been right.

What they did, manipulating Hank and making deals behind his back, was fucked up. But they knew what Hank was planning, probably better than he had. He was perfectly comfortable drifting into oblivion, as long as he didn’t have a witness. And leaving work would have been perfect—the perfect precursor to disappearing into nothing.

A few quick knocks on the window distracted Hank and he looked over to see Connor peering at him.

Hank jutted his head to one side, inviting Connor in. Connor sat down deliberately, his LED spinning red. He placed his hands on his thighs. 

Looking straight ahead, he spoke in almost monotone.

“Everywhere I look, I see probabilities. What is someone’s stress level, what is their heart rate, what is the best angle. This is how I’m built,” his voice cracked on the last word and he swallowed hard.

“I did what I did because I saw probabilities for you that I didn’t want. I wanted you to be happy and healthy and safe and I—fuck, Hank I wanted you.”

Hank raised his eyebrows at the uncharacteristic swear from the android’s mouth. 

“When I proposed the deal, I felt so clever. I felt like I was solving a puzzle. But it turned out that I was just running another protocol,” Connor said into his hands. 

When Connor looked up, tears smudged his cheeks. “I shouldn’t have done it, Hank. I’m sorry.”

Hank pursed his lips.

“Was Gavin part of the deal?”

“Oh god no,” Connor said, but when Hank looked surprised, he hastily added, “Well, he wasn’t part of the initial deal. But when you turned me down that night, I realized I needed to employ drastic measures.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Connor’s face.

“You know, I really did get jealous that night. My plan was to leave you alone for a few minutes and then come back so we could spend the whole evening together. When you were approached by that man, which had a fairly high probability, I couldn’t control myself. I hadn’t planned on…” Connor paused as he searched for the word.

“Jumping me?” Hank offered.

“Don’t be crass,” Connor said, hitting Hank lightly on the arm. “But yes.”

Connor shivered, “But Gavin is terrible. I’m glad I didn’t have to keep that up for too long.”

Hank gave a faint nod, “Yeah that ended up being an effective strategy.” His tone was a little darker than he had intended.

Connor turned in his seat and lay one hand on Hank’s arm.

“I’m sorry. I wanted you all to myself and I got selfish. I think at a certain point I would have tried anything. That’s not an excuse, just the truth.”

Staring into Connor’s eyes, he found himself unable to feel anything but, well, love. Hank had been a cop for a long time—he had seen thousands of ways people used each other. Some of it was terrible, some of it was less so, but it was undeniably common.

Hank didn’t approve of their methods, but damn if he didn’t understand the motivation. And it didn’t hurt his ego at all to hear Connor say that he wanted him. 

Hank grunted as he traced the roofline of the DPD.

“And Fowler knows we’re together? And he won’t fire us?”

Connor considered, “He made it clear that we can’t push it too far, but that was part of the deal, yes.”

Hank grunted again.

They stayed like that for a moment, Connor waiting for Hank’s reaction and Hank staring straight ahead. Yet again, Hank’s emotions betrayed him and he felt a smile curl at the edges of his mouth.

“You would have done anything?”

A flash of hope marked Connor’s face as he reacted to Hank’s expression.

“Yes, I believe there is a wide range of activities I would have undertaken if it meant I could keep you.”

“That’s good to know,” Hank said, rubbing his chin. “I think you owe me, too.”

Confusion flashed on Connor’s face before it was replaced by recognition. “Ah, yes. I believe I do.”

Hank leaned over, his lips hovering over the android’s. His eyes flashed up to Connor’s as his hand slipped up his thigh, eliciting a quiet moan from Connor. Connor’s gaze darkened and he licked his bottom lip.

“I look forward to reviewing your ideas for retribution once we get home,” Hank hummed into Connor’s mouth before pulling away and getting out of the car. 

Connor’s mouth hung open for a moment before he snapped it shut, his eyes following Hank out of the car. He straightened his tie in the mirror before joining Hank on the sidewalk.

“Or maybe we’ll have to work late tonight. I can be quite flexible, Lieutenant.”

Hank felt his own desire pool in his belly as he watched the android walk by him into the DPD.

He smiled, brushing a thumb against his lip before following Connor in. 

Well, that was something to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the final chapter of the story! Let me know your thoughts :)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, so any comments or suggestions are welcome! I'm probably too dedicated to finishing this, so look forward to more chapters very, very soon.


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